Discworld Drabbles
by femvimes
Summary: A series of drabbles (old school, 100 words each) based around various Discworld characters-so far, involving Drumknott, Cheery, the Times gang, Tiffany, Preston, Geoffrey, the Vimes family, Annagramma, and Pastor Oates.
1. War Wounds

The trade agreement with Istanzia wasn't in their favor. As the delegation left the room, the head of Istanzia's merchants stopped in front of Drumknott and hooked his cane onto the secretary's shoulder. Drumknott's sharp intake of breath summoned Lord Vetinari, who suddenly had his hand on the merchant's chest. The man gurgled.

"You will leave my staff alone, Lord Yevnovkov," the patrician said calmly.

Yevnovkov gurgled again, and Vetinari removed his hand.

"Good."

Yevnovkov fled the room.

"Thank you, my lord," said Drumknott, rubbing his shoulder.

"I didn't know that still hurt," said Lord Vetinari.

"Only when it's grabbed."

o0o

Moist noticed that Drumknott tended to favor one arm. He always shifted files to his right hand, and Moist learned early on not to approach him from his left side. It was as if he'd been injured. But that didn't make sense. You didn't get war wounds from filing.

Moist asked Adora about it. "What do you know about Drumknott's shoulder?"

"Which shoulder? The one that got stabbed?"

" _Stabbed_?"

"Winter of 1990," she said. "Ask de Worde about it sometime. He was caught up in the whole mess."

Well. Apparently this city had been exciting even before he got here.


	2. The Movement

The best thing about being female, besides not being male, was that Cheery had started something. Female dwarfs all over the city would come to ask her for advice. Some of it was about make-up, but most of it was "Why are my parents mad?" and "Who's hiring female dwarfs?" Some of the questions Cheery didn't feel qualified to answer.

"So anyone could be female?" a nervous constable asked.

"Of course," Cheery said, a little annoyed.

"I mean, _anyone_ could be _female_? If they wanted to?"

"Oh! I…don't see why not."

The constable beamed. "Thanks—miss."

"You're welcome, miss."


	3. Paperbacks

When William and Sacharissa get to work one morning, the office is full of books.

"They sell out faster than we can print them," a bleary Goodmountain says by way of greeting.

Sacharissa picks up a copy of the book. In large letters, the title reads _Pride and Extreme Prejudice_.

"There isn't a picture on the cover," William notes.

"That means it's…well, you know," says Sacharissa, and turns red.

"I thought _that_ kind had scantily-clad women on the front?" asks William.

"There is no in-between." Goodmountain taps a nearby stack. "But I've read this book. It's _good_."


	4. Neighbors

Moist had been afraid of this, ever since Adora convinced him to buy a house on Scoone Avenue. He looked out into the backyard, where Commander Vimes's son was playing with the goblin children that lived on the roof.

Crossly entered the room and announced,

"Lady Sybil Vimes."

Moist sprang up from the sofa.

"Terribly sorry, your grace—"

Lady Sybil just laughed. "It's not your fault, Postmaster. Young Sam needs children his own age to play with."

She joined him at the window. "Isn't life amazing? I couldn't have imagined any of this five years ago."

"Me neither," admitted Moist.


	5. A Night on the Town

Whenever Tiffany went to visit Preston, they had the same problem. Preston's bed was a cot in the basement of the hospital. He gallantly slept on the floor every time. This time, Tiffany hadn't seen Preston in months—what with the elves business.

She landed in the hospital's busy coachyard and greeted her beau with a kiss.

"We're getting a room this time," was the first thing she said. "I don't care where—I have money."

"That's good, because I don't," Preston smiled. "But I know just the place. Fluffy beds…lots of pillows…"

"Sounds perfect." Tiffany kissed him again.

o0o

Tiffany was a little nervous for a night on the town. This was Ankh-Morpork, after all.

"Swing dancing's all the rage," Preston assured her as they neared the club. "And this place is the best."

They entered a large, brightly-lit space. Humans, dwarfs, and even some trolls danced to a jaunty tune.

"The music's from Genua," Preston shouted over the noise. He led Tiffany onto the floor and positioned her hands. "Follow my lead."

"Where did you learn to dance?" Tiffany yelled into his ear as they spun.

"Evalina from work. Look, there she is dancing with her beau Arabelle."

o0o

Tiffany plopped into a chair, exhausted but happy.

"I'll get us something to drink."

Tiffany grabbed Preston's arm. "Preston, look."

Across the dance floor, couples were collapsing like trees under a tsunami. Preston caught a dwarf before he hit the ground.

"What was in that punch?" the dwarf groaned.

"You check the punch," Preston said. "I'll see what I can do for them."

Tiffany stepped over several prone forms to get to a man standing by the punch bowl.

"Er…two pence for a cup?" he ventured.

Tiffany snatched the ladle from him. "What did you put in this?" she demanded.

o0o

Fortunately, only five people had to go to the hospital.

"They wanted to make the punch fizz, so they added diorite," Tiffany explained. "Only trolls can drink that."

"You don't believe it was malicious?" the sergeant asked.

"That's up to the Watch to decide," Tiffany said wearily.

"Quite right, miss." He snapped his notebook shut. "Anything else, just ask for Sergeant Haddock at Psueodopolis Yard."

Tiffany and Preston stared at each other.

"I think the hospital might need—"

"We should probably go help—"

They both laughed. Preston took her hand.

"Come on. We're only a few blocks away."

o0o

It was two in the morning when they got to the inn. When the desk attendant showed them to their room, Tiffany gasped. It was as fancy as Letitia's room in the Keep.

Preston was just as impressed as she was.

"This bed could fit all the hospital trainees!" he exclaimed.

"The only trainee in this bed is going to be you." Tiffany discarded her shoes and apron, and fell into the mountain of pillows. Preston quickly joined her under the covers.

"Very nice," he murmured.

"Mm," said Tiffany. She was sleep seconds later. Preston's sigh soon turned to snores.


	6. Innovations

Innovative things like technology and fashion always started in Ankh-Morpork. In the country was where you felt things in your bones. Tiffany was proud of this. Yet she couldn't deny that the city had produced some good ideas. She and Preston would walk down the street holding hands and see other couples—sometimes two boys or two girls.  
Tiffany took Geoffrey to get his broomstick repaired. Across from the dwarf workshop sat two young man at a café. When they started to kiss, Tiffany glanced over at Geoffrey. He stared with wide eyes. She saw gears turning in his head.


	7. Playtime

When Young Sam was old enough to play, Sybil got a set of toy soldiers down from the attic that Vimes would have killed (or at least fought somebody) to have as a kid. As it was, he sometimes had more fun with them than Sam did.

"Here, we'll give this one a helmet. Now he looks like Daddy."

"I'm in charge of a 'narmy."

Young Sam put the model of a major-general on a horse and made him gallop through the air. Vimes's watchman doll chased after the horse at an acceptable distance.

"Stop! You're all under arrest!"

"Da-ad!"


	8. Salad Days

p class="MsoNormal"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Spring was the busiest time of the year in the Ramtops. For the witch living in Miss Treason's cottage, life was just as difficult. A few years ago Annagramma couldn't settle petty squabbles or set a broken arm, but her most important lesson had been humility. It came not from jewelry, but from an old black dress and muck up to your elbows. The trick was to wear a hat on top of all of that. Tiffany Aching wore her hat even when she wasn't, which was infuriating. But could she turn into a green monster? Annagramma didn't think so./span/p 


	9. Mourning

Pastor Oates heard of Granny's death on his way back from a trip to Loco. For the first time in his life he felt old. The last time he'd seen her was last year when they discussed orcs.

"I want to help them change their reputation."

"Quite right," Granny sniffed. "Can't just go swanning in and saving people. They know what they need better than you do."

Oates thought of a cold night when ashy pages had slipped through his fingers. Om helped those who helped themselves, but He probably loaned a hand to those who helped others too.


	10. Domestic

Ever since Dr. Lawn ordered a diet change for Vimes, Sybil had been determined to learn to cook. She wanted Young Sam to learn too, since she'd never been taught.

It was a rare day: Vimes was home for dinner and Young Sam was awake past six. Sybil propped up the cookbook.

"Now, this recipe is for grilled salmon. Can you get out the lemons, please, Sam?"

Young Sam ran off to the pantry and came back with an armful of oranges. Vimes, who was salting the raw salmon, smiled. He couldn't tell citrus apart until he was nearly thirty.


	11. Lavender

Lila didn't know where else to go, so she found herself in Nanny Ogg's living room.  
"Dad caught me kissing Sarah Cooper behind the barn and he said I weren't allowed in his house no more," she said breathlessly.  
"Your dad oughta be told what's what," Granny Weatherwax said darkly, "Forcin' a young woman outside her house at two in the morning,"  
"You ever thought of witching?" Nanny asked. "You can kiss whoever you want. Leastways, I could. What does Sarah think about this?"  
"She don't want nothing to do with me," Lila whispered.  
"Her loss, my girl," Nanny chuckled.


	12. The Present

It was Lord Vetinari's birthday. No one knew his age, but people guessed anywhere from 40 to 200. Tonight, there would be a party with false well wishes, but this morning there was a mug of tea.

Drumknott carefully set the mug on his lordship's desk. Vetinari raised an eyebrow at the writing on it.

"'To the world's Greatest Boss'?"

"Happy birthday, sir," said Drumknott. "I found it in a shop on my holiday and thought it would suit you. And I got more of your favorite tea."

Vetinari raised the mug to him and took a sip. "Thank you."


End file.
